


Viral Video

by GlassRose



Series: Fluffy Avengers [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, a wee bit of strife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:35:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1881870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassRose/pseuds/GlassRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The video Clint posted on tumblr has gone viral, leading to repercussions he didn't account for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Viral Video

**Author's Note:**

> I've tried to be accurate and respectful regarding sexualities and genders I don't have an up close and personal perspective on, but please, if something's wrong, call me out.
> 
> I do not own the characters but as the author of the story I do not want this posted anywhere else without my explicit permission.

Bucky spent a lot less time in his rooms at Avengers Tower and a lot more time at Steve's house lately, but right now he was sitting in the lab waiting for Tony to fix his arm. Apparently Tony's shitty repair jobs weren't limited to Clint's devices. He was so focused on "being a good boyfriend" and "getting in tune with my inner self" that his work was suffering—and so were his friends who relied on said work.

"What were you doing? How did you break it?" Tony demanded.

"Nothing," Bucky answered coolly.

"Well obviously you were doing something, otherwise it wouldn't have broken."

"I've lived with it for decades, Stark. It's designed to be strong and fast and scary, not blow a fucking fuse when I'm lying in bed doing nothing. And you're the one who redid the whole thing."

"Excuse me, but I'm—"

"HEY! HEY, AM I YELLING TOO LOUDLY?" a voice shouted from the doorway. "SEE I WOULDN'T KNOW, BECAUSE I'M EIGHTY-PERCENT DEAF AND THESE KEEP SHORTING OUT." Clint marched in and deposited two small devices on the work table.

"Stop yelling, Barton!" Tony snapped. "I can't do everything all the time."

"Yeah I can't hear you. Which is actually really nice—don't get me wrong—but how am I supposed to be a terrifying secret agent superhero when I can't communicate with my team?"

"Why don't you just go to an ear doctor like normal people?"

"Stop whispering," Clint said, crossing his arms, "and get your head in the game. Some of us depend on technology to function proper in the world." He turned on his heel and left.

Tony sighed. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I'll get it working again."

"Thank you," Bucky said.

A couple hours later, Steve and Pepper joined their boyfriends. "You almost done?" Steve asked.

"Close," Tony answered. "I don't want it to screw up this time. And then I have to replace Clint's stuff."

Pepper took a seat and asked JARVIS to turn on CNN. Not much was happening in the world, it seemed. Then again, CNN was pretty much a joke at this point. Steve preferred Al-Jazeera and NPR. He sat down next to Bucky and took his free hand, stroking it softly. The next news story caught their attention, however.

"And the latest viral video that's sweeping the internet is not a cat or a song parody; in fact, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you, so let's show you a clip."

The reedy tenor of the Ink Spots singer and the soft baritone of Steve Rogers suddenly filled the room.

_I don't want to set the world on fire_  
_I just want to start a flame in your heart_  
_In my heart I have but one desire_  
_And that one is you; no other will do_

Bucky and Steve stared at each other. Bucky spoke first. "I'm gonna murder Clint."

"In case you're not quite sure what you just witnessed, that was Captain America singing 'I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire' by the Ink Spots while slow dancing with the former Soviet and HYDRA assassin known as the Winter Soldier. The video may have originated on tumblr, but attempts to track down the person who first posted it have been unsuccessful. You can watch it on my Facebook page, but I'll spoil the ending for you right now."

The TV screen was suddenly full of Steve and Bucky kissing.

"Oooookay," Steve said, nodding. "That's not exactly how I was planning to come out, but it spares us the trouble of looking like we want attention, right?"

"How were you planning to come out?" Bucky asked, teeth grinding.

"I hadn't thought that far ahead, to be honest, but not this way. Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"Done!" Tony said happily. "You're all set. What happened, why is everyone looking like someone kicked a puppy?"

"Were you not paying attention?" Pepper said, shaking her head.

"Fix those," Bucky ordered, pointing at Clint's hearing aids. "I want Hawkeye to hear every glorious second of me killing him."

"Why are you killing Barton?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and marched out of the lab.

 

Steve found Clint in his shooting range on floor 28. A series of moving targets all had arrows sticking out of the center. Steve approached Clint as the archer drew back his bow and coughed politely. Then he felt like an idiot, remembering Clint was nearly deaf. Barton made the fifty yard shot easily and Steve tapped his shoulder before he could draw another arrow. He turned his attention to Steve. "I knew you were there. What can I do for you, Cap?"

"I was just wondering if you happened to have recorded a video of me and Bucky dancing." Steve tried to speak loud enough without coming across as condescending.

"That was JARVIS."

"And put it on the internet?"

"And put—what? You're gonna have to talk straight in my ear; I'm tech-deprived."

"Right," Steve said loudly, leaning in. "I asked if you put the video on the internet."

"Um. You guys looked so cute, I felt like the entire world needed to drown in the sweetness of it like me."

"Right, okay, well, Bucky's kind of upset about it."

Clint winced. "I was just teasing…."

"Yeah, I get that, but it was just on CNN and you kind of outed us, so…."

Clint turned white. "Oh my god, shit, no, I thought everyone knew, I mean you guys are out in public together all the time, fuck, I am so sorry. Seriously, I thought it was common knowledge. I—fuck. I fucked up. I'm really sorry, Steve."

"I'm okay. I mean, I figured eventually I'd come out and this way it doesn't look like I'm looking for attention. But Buck's pretty mad. He doesn't like to lose control of things, you know?"

"No, I—I mean, he should be mad. That was messed up. I am so sorry. I'll go see him; where is he?"

"I think he's punching things on 26. You might want to wait."

"Right, thanks, sorry again." Clint packed up his bow and went to retrieve all the arrows, and Steve left the range. Never one to follow sage advice, Clint immediately ran down two flights of stairs to the level 26 gym, where Bucky was indeed punching a sandbag. He was about to go in when he realized this was probably a conversation better had when he could actually hear, so he popped back up to Tony's lab.

"I fixed them! Of course I have plans for better ones that won't short out and will sound even better but for now, here you go," Tony said as he came in.

Clint stared at him. "What is with you people? I can't hear you! I feel like Toph from Avatar."

Tony walked over to him, put his mouth right next to Clint's ear, and screamed, "I FIXED THEM!"

Clint jerked away. "What the hell! Not funny. Give me." He held out his hand for Tony, who dropped the hearing aids into his palm. "Thank you," he said, inserting them. "And I'll thank you again later. I have to go do something though."

"You're fucking welcome. You guys are a bunch of whiners."

"Says the able-bodied man with the iron suit addiction," Clint retorted as he headed to the elevator and level 26. Bucky glared at him as he entered the gym.

"I," Bucky said firmly, slamming his flesh fist into the bag, "am not talking to you."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Not talking to you."

"Yeah, I fucked up. I'm really sorry. I didn't know you guys weren't out. I'm an idiot. And a shitty friend."

"Not talking."

Clint sagged. "I know, you hate me. I'll make it up to you. Somehow."

"I"—punch—"am just jumping"—punch—"with joy at the prospect of explaining 'pansexual'"—punch—"to a few dozen reporters."

"Um…but on the upside, a few million pansexual and bi teens will hear their sexuality validated on TV? By an Avenger?"

"By an Avenger's traitor murderer boyfriend, maybe."

"Aw, Bucky, no, come on, you're one of us. We're the team, we voted you in."

Bucky stopped punching and stared at him. "What?"

"Well we didn't have a town meeting or anything. I just asked everyone and they said hell yeah. This was weeks ago. I thought Phil or Tony would've done some official thing about it. Anyway, you're not a traitor. I'll fight anyone who says that. And you're not a murderer either."

Bucky crossed his arms and searched Clint's face. "Do you have a thing for me or something?"

Clint frowned. "Well, yeah. I've openly said so on multiple occasions. What does that have to do with anything? I didn't ask the team to vote you in for eye candy. I was thinking you'd be someone I'd want at my side if an army of giant crabs from Atlantis attacks or something. 'Cause you're dangerous as hell and a real good guy. I like you. You're my friend." He exhaled slowly. "Guess I'm not at the top of your list of friends anymore, though."

Bucky looked past him. "Maybe you will be again. But no. Not today."

Clint pouted. "I am really sorry."

"Yeah. Can you just…go, please?"

Clint looked like a puppy who knew he had broken the rules as he walked out of the gym. Behind him, Bucky started punching the bag again.

 

Natasha lay on the couch, reading a paperback with a mostly naked college-age boy on the front when Clint got home. She signed, _Hello, sweetheart_ , and continued reading.

"Tony fixed them. Thanks."

Nat caught his tone and sat up. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah, but it's my fault. I fucked up."

"What'd you do? Is this about the video?"

"I thought they were out!"

"Wow, when you're not on a mission, you really turn off the observational skills."

Clint threw up his hands. "They go on dates in public all the time!"

"They're recently reunited best friends who were both frozen for seventy years. People are probably writing it off as 'dudes were more touchy-feely in the '40s'. Besides, Captain America being into dudes is kind of hard to wrap your head around for some people. Fox News is going to have a meltdown. Remember when they used to hold him up as their ideal white male?"

"God. And then we met him and he was a queer rebel punk artist with radically liberal social views…yeah, that was beautiful. Anyway, that's beside the point, which is that I just pissed off Bucky, and he doesn't deserve that, and I like him, and I gotta make it up to him. Fuck."

Natasha set down her book. "Well, as long as you're feeling all guilty, you can give me a back rub."

"How is that going to help?"

"My back muscles ache."

Clint sat down next to her as she pulled off her shirt and unhooked her bra. "I could come out," he mused, kneading her shoulders. "Take the focus off of them. Or spread it around a bit."

"Halfway or all the way??"

"May as well go all in. Unless…I guess that might imply you're not het."

"Kind of, but I don't mind. Now's as good a time as any to let the world know their heroes aren't all cishets. This could start something, really. The conservatives are gonna shit themselves when the Avengers come out as…where are we? Pan, bi-demi, bi, NB bi, bi, grey-A, and 'I don't understand why mortals feel the petty need to label their physical attractions'. Oh, right there, unh, yeah," Nat sighed as Clint pressed his thumb into a knot, moving in tight circles to loosen the muscle. She draped herself over the arm of the couch, eyes fluttering as he worked. "I think this is the part where you seduce me," she said, her voice muffled by the furniture.

"Huh? Oh. Sorry. I was uh…did you want…um, I'm just distracted, sorry…."

Natasha turned around, taking Clint's hands. "Hey, he'll forgive you. It'll take some time, but he will." She slid a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to plant a kiss on his temple.

"Why aren't you scolding me?"

"Your self-flagellation seems more than adequate," she said. "Besides, I was trying to get laid. Mostly because I was reading erotica."

"The guy on the front looks like a kid. Although purple briefs are definitely a good fashion choice."

"He's supposed to be twenty-one," she said defensively.

"Good, give it to me when you're done."

"Hey, it's good literature. There's crime and shit. And frat boys, but whatever. And no one's bisexual, but the world's not perfect."

"You're perfect." Clint knew he was doing the "Disney prince gazing lovingly at the princess" thing, but he didn't care. He had always loved those scenes, as boringly heteronormative as they were, because he had always wanted someone that amazing to gaze at. It still shocked him sometimes that he had found her, even more so that she loved him back.

"You're full of shit." Natasha stood up, stretched, and reached around to refasten her bra. "You want to get lunch?"

"I will pay you to go like that," Clint said.

Nat's eyes flicked down to her abdomen, but Clint dropped to his knees and kissed the scar the Winter Soldier had left years ago. "Stop being silly," she complained, though she made no move to push him away. "I'm not going out to lunch in a bra and shorts."

 

Bucky used to share a bed with Steve when they were younger and sharing a frigid shithole of an apartment in Brooklyn, because the added body heat helped calm Steve's asthma. On particularly cold nights, he would wrap his arms and legs around Steve's thin frame, both of them pretending this was just by necessity.

Bucky still enjoyed spooning with Steve, although he had to switch sides based on which position he was taking that night due to the extreme discomfort of sleeping on his left arm. This morning, Bucky woke up with his face pressed into Steve's back. There was a brief moment of panic when he couldn't feel his flesh and blood arm, but as he sat up, he realized it was simply fast asleep. He slid off the bed and tried to shake it out. Steve rolled over and yawned. "Good morning, jerk."

"Morning. Punk. Ow, fuck."

"What's wrong?"

"Pins and needles." Bucky massaged it with his left arm while Steve peered out the window. "Nice day?"

"It has potential," Steve answered. "There are seven or so people outside my house with cameras."

"I hate paparazzi."

"I think it's a news crew."

"That's even better."

Steve abandoned the window to kiss Bucky. "I can try and send them away for you, light of my life."

Bucky laughed. "Please. I am the darkness in your life, O Good and Noble Captain America."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "How dare you question my judgment?"

"That is literally all I have ever done, and it's a good job too, otherwise you wouldn't be alive."

"Well then," Steve replied, planting a soft kiss on Bucky's mouth, "how could you possibly be the darkness in my life?"

"You always had a terminal case of stupid."

"Right, I was the stupid one."

"Hey, I wasn't the one who—with no training—sneaked into a HYDRA weapons factory to rescue some pretty boy you'd met a few times."

"It conveniently worked out, pretty boy." It made Steve so happy to see Bucky with his eyes alight, barely a hint of the haunted look they usually held. He pressed a kiss to Bucky's forehead. "Shall I kick them out?"

Bucky shook his head. "Nope. Rather get this over with sooner than later. Besides, it won't suck for demi kids to hear their sexuality validated by Captain fucking America. But…" he began, yawning, "let's get hot first."

"Oh, now? I mean, if you want—"

"I mean I'm going to shower and do my hair and get pretty so you drool at me the whole time. And if I'm lucky, so will the reporter."

"Oh."

Steve and Bucky showered together quickly, and Steve spent a few minutes styling his hair while Bucky dried his own and used liberal amounts of something Darcy had given him to make his hair messy but perfect. It was almost sex hair, but in a very careful and beautiful way. Steve found a one-size-too-small T-shirt and jeans, and Bucky applied charcoal eyeliner under his eyes. He then dug in his dresser to find a dark blue v-neck.

"Isn't that Barton's?" Steve asked, tying his shoes.

"I'm keeping it. He owes me." When they were ready, the two men opened the front door and stared down the front path to the small crowd. Bucky slipped his hand into Steve's, who gave a reassuring squeeze. They walked confidently out…and were immediately jumped by a bold reporter.

"Hi, Captain America, Winter Soldier, I'm Janine Stroik with the Guardian, and I'd like to ask you a few questions."

Bucky sighed melodramatically. "I bet you do. All right, hit us."

"There was a video—"

"Yes, we saw it, yes, that was us, yes, we're an item."

Steve snorted. Janine recovered quickly. "Sir, you're known as a dangerous assassin who worked with HYDRA, and now the Avengers have vouched for your trustworthiness. Does that have anything to do with your relationship with one?"

Steve stepped forward. "Now wait just a minute," he growled.

"I got this," Bucky said, pulling him back. "Yeah, so here's the deal. And I haven't exactly been open about it before because I wasn't ready to talk about it before, but nothing I did between '43 and 2014 was my own choice. And I'm not saying I should never answer for any of it, but I am saying I was buried so deep in my head I didn't know who I was, and they made me what they wanted me to be. And now that everyone's seeing my face open and on the news, I think it'll become apparent real soon who I am—who I was—so I'm gonna jump in ahead of that. I am Bucky Barnes, which a lot of people probably guessed already. I was born in 1917. Steve and I were best friends when we were kids. You're asking me if the Avengers are giving me a second shot because I'm fucking one of them? That's not what happened. And it's a gross question. I'd like to see you ask Black Widow that. She's not gonna be as nice as I am."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know, although some of us had suspected your identity. That brings up another question, though."

"I can guess," Steve sighed, sliding a protective arm around Bucky's shoulders.

"Were you lovers during World War II, or before that?"

"No," Steve answered. "We lived together, but no. It was harder back then, if your affections didn't fit the right parameters, even if you were…um, useful to the war effort. You ever heard of Alan Turing?"

"Yes, I have. I suppose waking up to find the world more, ah, friendly to the LGBT community was a positive change?"

"A lot of things were positive changes."

"And now that you're the first openly gay superhero, what do you—"

"I'm not gay," Steve interrupted calmly.

"I'm sorry, I thought you two were…."

"I'm not gay either," Bucky said, licking his lips. Someone had said his mouth was gorgeous. It wouldn't hurt to endear himself to viewers with his pretty face.

"Oh," Janine said, confused. He could see her pupils dilating, though, as she tried to focus on the interview.

"I'm pansexual," Bucky said, raising an eyebrow and grinning directly at her.

"Could you, uh, explain that?"

"I'm thinking I'll have to," Bucky sighed. "Yeah. Okay, so the term pansexual originated when people started complaining that 'bisexual' was transphobic and anti-non-binary folk because they thought the 'bi' meant 'men and women' when in fact the 'bi' actually means 'same and different', which is to say, bisexual people are attracted to people the same gender as well as other genders. 'Pansexual' officially means attraction to any and all genders. I don't mind being called bisexual, because it fits just fine, but there's something about the term 'pansexual' that feels more me. It's complicated and takes more explaining than I have time for right now, but that's the short explanation."

"I see. Thank you. And you, Captain Rogers, are you pansexual?"

Steve shook his head and tried to ignore Bucky, who was openly flirting with the camera with his eyes and mouth. "Biromantic demisexual."

Janine blinked. "I'm sorry, I don't have any idea what that is."

"Biromantic, as in I seek out romantic relationships with any gender. Like bisexual, but it's not about sexuality; it's romance. Clear?"

"I think so. Go on, please."

"Demisexual means that I'm only sexually attracted to people with whom I've forged a strong emotional bond."

"I think we all understand your emotional bond, having watched that video. Which brings me to my next question: Who filmed that and posted it?"

"None of your beeswax," Bucky retorted. "It was done without our knowledge, but I, unlike some people, don't go around yelling information that exposes someone."

"Understandable. Ah, earlier, Winter—er, sorry, Sergeant?"

"Bucky."

"Bucky. You said something about non-binary folks? What is that?"

"Wow. I was born ninety seven years ago and I'm up with the times and the humans. You young whippersnappers need to get on board. Non-binary, as in people who don't fit the gender binary. People who aren't male or female, but somewhere between or outside or both or one one day and the other the next day. They exist. Stop pretending they don't. Is that all? I haven't had breakfast."

Janine looked thoroughly bewildered at this point but pressed on, taking a step closer to Bucky. He didn't miss her gaze lingering on his mouth. "I would love an interview with you, Bucky, about your time as the Winter Soldier."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't. And I'm gonna need you to show this interview in its entirety. If anything's out of context, I won't like it. And you wouldn't like me when I'm angry." Steve started laughing at that. "Come on, babe." Bucky pulled Steve through the crew to the driveway and hopped on the bike. Steve mounted behind him, putting his arms around Bucky's waist. They roared out of the driveway in pursuit of bagels and coffee.

"Sweet of you to get up in arms about non-binary genders," Steve said in Bucky's ear. "He'll be glad to see you still care."

"My world doesn't revolve around him," Bucky growled, but Steve kissed the back of his neck and smiled.

"Aw, you love him."

"Shut up, Rogers."

 

Clint intercepted a reporter trying to get to Bucky and Steve, who were dropping by the Tower. "They already did an interview with the Guardian," he said, deliberately standing between her and the men and stepping with her as she tried to get around him. "Leave the poor kids alone." He hadn't been spying on Steve and Bucky, not exactly, but when he saw the news crew outside Steve's house, he had figured it was his responsibility to help out if needed. He was relieved to see how well Bucky had handled it.

The reporter glared. "I'd like to talk to them about—"

"They talked. They're done. Back off." Clint crossed his arms and blocked her while Steve and Bucky escaped into the Tower.

"Fine, why don't _you_ talk then?"

"Me?" Clint asked, putting his hands to his face. "Aw, you're so sweet! No one ever remembers me. I'm that other Avenger. I'm 'and the rest' of the Gilligan's Island crew."

"Right…so, have Captain Rogers and the Winter Soldier been seeing each other since the helicarrier incident when SHIELD was destroyed?"

"Uh, no, but that wasn't the first time they met. And don't call him the Winter Soldier. He's just Bucky, okay?"

"All right, Bucky then. Did Rogers persuade the rest of the Avengers to give his boyfriend a second chance despite his history because they were lovers?"

Clint glared. "I don't like you. And no. _I_ was the one who found him after he escaped HYDRA and I was the one who asked my team to give him a chance. Except of course Rogers, who had been looking for him in the first place. You're trying to find a scoop where there isn't one. A lot of the Avengers are somewhat volatile people, but that's not news. You needed us before and you'll need us again."

"I see. And, as an Avenger, what do you think of an Avenger being in a relationship with…this man?"

Clint swallowed. "I think Rogers and Barnes are…inspiring. In fact their bravery at coming out has inspired me to be open about myself, which I'm doing right now. Hi, I'm Hawkeye, and I'm uh, bisexual and non-binary."

"You're…I'm sorry, non-binary?"

Clint sighed. "Gender's not a binary, all right? You can be a man or a woman or you can be neither. I'm neither. On the spectrum I'm more toward the male side than the female side, but I'm not a man."

The reporter frowned. "You look like a man."

"I don't have to dress androgynous to be NB. I present masculine because I'm comfortable doing that. I'm not a man. There, you want news? Hawkeye's genderqueer. There's your headline. If you'll excuse me, I have things to do."

"Wait!" the reporter called. "You're involved with Black Widow, right?"

Clint turned. "Nat and I have been partners for a long time. So?"

"If you're not a man, what does that make her?"

"Doesn't make her anything. If she wants to give the press a label, she can do that. I won't." He leaned in to let JARVIS scan his eye, and the doors opened. "And for the record, Bucky isn't just an Avenger's boyfriend. He's officially one of us." With that, Clint disappeared into the Tower.

 

Clint wanted to have dinner with the gang, but Bucky glared at him when he came in the kitchen at three, so he headed down to the shooting range and practiced for several hours. Around ten pm, Natasha found him. "Come on, Katniss, time for bed."

"I was kicking ass before Katniss existed, don't you even." He released another arrow, hitting his target dead center. Natasha hooked an arm around his waist and dragged him back.

"I want you in my bed. Let's go."

"Fine, fine." Clint packed up his weapons, and they headed to Nat's bedroom to sleep.

 

The Winter Soldier had found his target. The person knelt on the floor in front of him, face lowered, hands on his head. "Please," he said softly. But the Soldier had a mission, and there was to be no mercy. He fired two shots into the target's back. The person choked and fell forward, gasping. The Winter Soldier turned his body over with his boot and pointed the gun at his head.

"It's okay," the person coughed, and Bucky screamed.

"NO!" he shrieked. "No no no no no, please no, I didn't, I'm sorry…."

He was still babbling when a voice broke through his dream. "Bucky, hey, it's okay, I'm here, you're safe, you're in bed with me. I'm here, Buck, I'm here."

Bucky jerked awake, still yelling. "No, I didn't, I wouldn't, I won't, that's not how it happened, it's not, it wasn't him, it wasn't!"

"Shh, shh." Steve stroked his back. "It was a dream, Buck. Just a dream."

Bucky shivered and clung to Steve. "I didn't mean to kill him. I didn't know," he sobbed.

"It wasn't your fault," Steve soothed.

"No, that's not—it was Clint. I killed him. I—that's not real, I love him, I do, I mean not—he's my friend, I shouldn't hate him, I don't."

"You don't," Steve said gently. "You were mad. It's okay."

"No, I…I gotta let him know. He did a lot for me. I can't just drop him 'cause he screwed up."

"You didn't. We can fix it in the morning, sweetheart." He rubbed soothing circles into Bucky's back. "Try and sleep now."

Bucky curled up against Steve's side, afraid to let go, afraid to lose himself to the cold nothingness he had been for so long. Eventually he settled into an uneasy sleep.

 

Clint woke up early the next morning and enlisted JARVIS's help in baking a blueberry peach cobbler. Natasha chased down the scent but Clint had to deny her. "It's an apology cobbler. I can't give you some; it'll look insincere."

"You're cruel," she sulked.

"Am not," he said, sniffing, which started an argument that quickly devolved into making out. Around noon, Tony joined them in the lounge, and CNN aired Bucky and Steve's Guardian interview. The men themselves showed up at the end of it and flopped onto the couch. That interview was followed shortly by Clint's, and Bucky watched intently, actually blushing when Clint snapped at the reporter that Bucky was an Avenger.

He turned to Clint. "Hey, I—"

"Me first," Clint said. He jerked his head toward the kitchen. "In private?"

"Yeah." Bucky followed Clint to the kitchen, where Clint handed him a baking dish.

"Blueberry peach cobbler. I'm sorry, I really am."

"I know. It's…it's really not that big a deal. I just flipped shit."

"No, it is a big deal. I fucked up, and I wanted to make up for it."

"It's okay. Really. And…hell, you got guts coming out like that."

Clint smiled shyly. "So, friends?" He held out his hand.

"Yeah, of course." Bucky ignored the hand and grabbed his shoulders, drawing him into an embrace. "I owe you a lot, I really do. I shouldn't've let this come between us."

"You don't owe me shit."

"I do, but I'll take the cobbler anyway." He pulled away and regarded Clint. "So you think I'm cute?"

"I think you're vain, Starbucks."

Bucky shrugged. "You won't look this good when you're ninety-seven, Bill Clinton."

Clint shuddered. "That is not an acceptable nickname. Find another."

"Hillary Clinton."

"God damn it."

"No, I think that's the one."

 

Janine Stroik would have been very happy to have gotten a video of Hawkeye chasing the Winter Soldier with a wooden spoon around the Avengers' lounge until he hid behind Captain America, who glared at Hawkeye, who whined at the Black Widow, who hissed at Captain America until Iron Man threatened to kick them all out, while the Norse god of mischief and his boyfriend popped up from behind the couch, where they had apparently been sleeping the whole time. That footage, however, was deleted by JARVIS very shortly afterward.


End file.
